Finding Family
by perseph1ne
Summary: Crossover with Magnificent 7 ATF au. Pre-season one Buffy. A twelve-year-old Xander discovers that he has an older half-brother living in Denver. When tragedy strikes, he goes to find his brother.
1. Discovery and Journeys

**Finding Family  
**  
_Disclaimer: I don't own Buffy: the vampire slayer or The Magnificent 7. I also don't own the ATF au of The Magnificent 7 that was first created by Mog (I think). I'm just playing, no money, and no harm. In the Buffy-verse this takes place before the first season and, in case you don't know about it, the ATF-verse of the Mag. 7 has the characters as a modern day team of ATF agents. Also, some mention of slash as two of the male characters are in a committed relationship._

**Chapter One: Discovery and Journeys**

"You got another postcard about your bastard son," Carol said, tauntingly waving said postcard in the air. "Seems he's moved again, more trouble at work you think?" she sarcastically said. Her triumph was short-lived as her husband snatched the postcard from her hand and pushed her into the wall.

"Shut up," he growled, "At least I have one son that's making something of his life, not like our worthless kid." His glare circled the room and landed on the door to their son, Xander's room. He took a step toward Xander's room, but Carol caught his arm, stopping him.

"Leave him alone," she quietly said, "He's doing as good in school as you ever did. Besides, I got paid yesterday. Let's go out to eat." With a slightly drunken smile, he agreed and they left with a yell to Xander about their plans.

After he was sure they were really gone, Xander crept out of his room. He retrieved the postcard that his parents had been arguing over and slowly read the message. It didn't say much – just a name, Ezra Standish, and an address in Denver. However, those few words changed Xander's entire world. He had a brother, well half-brother. He wondered if his father had kept any other postcards or if he had any pictures of his newly found brother. He set the current postcard down and rushed to the attic door. If his father bothered to keep anything about this Ezra, it would be in the attic.

After shifting lots of heavy boxes, well heavy to a skinny twelve-year-old who hadn't hit his growth spurt yet, he found a small shoebox labeled Ezra. It was filled with postcards and a couple of old grade school pictures, but nothing too recent. Well as neat as it would be to meet his brother, there wasn't much chance of Xander getting to Colorado. With a last sigh of longing, he put the shoebox away and went to look for food.

An hour and two sandwiches later, someone rapped politely on the front door. Xander inched his way to the door and peered through the peephole. Two police officers were standing on the porch; one raised his hand to knock again. Xander bit his lip nervously, he wondered if his parents had been arrested for something. With a deep breath for courage, Xander unlocked the deadbolt and pulled open the door.

"Alexander Harris?" the tall blond, non-knocker asked. Xander nodded, unable or unwilling to make a sound. He felt his stomach drop when the cop used the quiet voice – the voice adults used when they had something bad to tell the kids. "There's been an accident, "the blond gently said, "Your parent are at the hospital. We came to take you over there. Is there anyone you might want to call?"

"I guess I should call my Uncle Rory," Xander reluctantly replied, "He'd want to know." Uncle Rory was not Xander's favorite person. In fact, Xander dreaded being around his mother's creepy younger brother. However, he dutifully made the phone call, relieved when the machine picked up, and left his message. Then he followed the officers out to their car and they rode in silence to the hospital.

The emergency room was controlled chaos as doctors and nurses bustled from one patient to the next. The blond cop guided Xander to a seat in the crowded waiting area, while his balding partner went to the nurse's station to find out where the Harris' were. It wasn't good news, Xander could tell. Oh God, what if they were both dead? They were lousy parents, but they were all he had. If they died, the state would ship him to Uncle Rory's and Xander didn't want that.

When the bald cop stopped in front of Xander, he knew his fears were true. "I'm sorry kid," the cop said, "your mom didn't make it. Your dad's in critical condition, but it doesn't look too good." For a moment, Xander couldn't even breathe. Everything was moving too fast and he just wanted a second to process this news.

He wasn't going to get his second, as the police officer ushered him to the elevator and then up three floors. Xander was shown into the room where his father was, well, dying. A dark-haired twenty-something intern was adjusting an IV and turned to Xander as the door opened. The intern finished his task and walked out the door, telling Xander not to touch any of the wires. Xander wondered what to do, if he should say something to his unconscious father. The pale form stirred no real sadness or sympathy in the boy, as he recalled all the pain his father gave out over the years. He felt a twinge of sorrow that he could never please his father, that the man never seemed to love him, but the blue-tinged lips and broken body didn't deserve any sympathy. In fact the only thing he thought as he stared down at the rapidly fading life was "what a waste". His thoughts instead turned to Uncle Rory and how he'd react to Xander.

It was fear of the mostly unknown, but decidedly unpleasant that drove Xander's thoughts to Ezra. It would be a gamble, but he could dig out his parent's strongbox of money and take a bus to Denver. Maybe his half- brother would let him stay there. Xander decided it was worth the risk of rejection to escape Uncle Rory. A loud alarm interrupted Xander's plotting and nurses and doctors rushed into the room, pushing him aside and feverishly working on his father. Gradually, the frantic movement stopped and Xander knew his father was dead. In a daze, Xander wandered out into the waiting area where he saw the blond cop who had brought him to the ER He asked for a ride home, telling the cops he'd wait for his uncle there.

As soon as the door shut on the well-meaning police, Xander went into his parent room and found the strongbox. He counted out the money, it turned out to be only a couple hundred dollars. Then he went to his room and threw some clothes in a bag, along with some comics and snack food. With a quick check outside to make sure the cops were gone, he headed out the back door to the bus station.

The walk in the moonlit night afforded Xander some quiet time to ponder the enigma of his parents. Somehow, he felt like he should feel bad that they were dead, yet he couldn't quite force the emotion. Maybe it was all the years of punches and kicks from his father, or his mother's silent warnings to not get his dad mad. She never let Xander forget that it was his fault for getting his father mad and he deserved the abuse. Maybe he'd feel bad later, when he could remember good times – if they had any good times.

When he reached the station, it was surprisingly easy to spin a story for the ticket lady that he was traveling alone and meeting his brother in Denver. After all, it was true, in a matter of speaking. It was a long trip with loud babies and strangers trying to start conversations with him. He mostly ignored everyone, listening to his Walkman or re-reading Ezra's postcards that he had stuffed into the bag. Xander wondered how exactly he was going to introduce himself to his brother. He also worried that Ezra wouldn't want to know him, or wouldn't want him to stay.

The bus pulled into the Denver station, bring Xander out of his worried thoughts. He swung his bag onto his shoulder and looked around for a map. It was very early in the morning, about five o'clock, and the station was pretty deserted. Everything had just been polished and cleaned in preparation for the day, and the floor reflected his exhausted pallor and tired eyes. Most everyone else in the station echoed his appearance, as it appeared they all came in on one of the red-eyes like Xander. A helpful, and way too perky, redhead worker directed him to the maps as she cheerfully talked about the city's attractions. He nodded along until he could escape her clutches and plot his route. Munching on a cold Poptart, he found the address on his brother's postcard and discovered that it was a federal building.

A quick bus trip later and Xander was in front of his destination. Squaring his shoulders, he picked up his bag and walked through the rotating doors. Somewhat overwhelmed by the security guards and stark white walls, he cautiously made his way to the front desk. "Hello, I'm looking for Ezra Standish, he works here," Xander said using his most polite adult voice.

The lady behind the desk smiled at the boy and replied, "He has the day off sweetie. Why don't you try calling him at home?"

Xander's face fell and he sighed, "I don't have his number. All I got was this address."

The secretary felt bad for the boy and was about to give him Ezra's number, which could get her fired, when Vin and Chris walked through the doors. She smiled in relief and decided to let the two members of Team 7 handle the kid's request. She motioned the men over, telling Xander, "One of these men can help you get in touch with Ezra." "Gentlemen," she said as she turned to the two team-members, "this young man wants to see Ezra, but he doesn't have his home phone number or address. Maybe one of you could help him?"

Vin and Chris exchanged glances, silently agreeing that the boy was no threat. "I'm Vin and that's Chris," Vin said, "we work with Ezra. Why do you need to see him?"

Xander shuffled his feet nervously. This was getting more complicated than he expected. He wasn't sure what or how much to tell these people. "It's kinda personal," he stammered, "I'm not sure if he'd want you to know or not."

"Well," Vin slowly replied, "Is whatever you're going to tell Ezra a good thing or a bad thing?"

If possible, Xander fidgeted more, "I think it's a good thing." There was a pause as Xander chewed on his bottom lip and worried, "I'm not sure what he'll think."

Vin was becoming mildly alarmed. If he didn't know better, he'd think that the kid was Ezra's son. It was an outrageous thought; Ezra had never mentioned anyone that he stayed with long enough to father a child. Although, it didn't take but once. Vin sent a questioning glance over to Chris, who responded with a nod. "All right kid," Vin said, "I'll take you to Ezra's condo and he can decide if he wants me to know what's going on."

Xander nodded and picked up his bag. Then he followed Vin out to the parking garage. As they were climbing into Vin's battered jeep, the man asked, "What's your name? I can't keep calling you kid."

"Alexander Harris, "he replied somewhat timidly, "most people call me Xander." He yawned widely as the past day's event started to catch up with him. His exhaustion waged war with his worry and excitement over meeting his brother. Still, his eyes fell to half-mast as the jeep rolled along the road. In his head he practiced what to say -- Hello Ezra I'm your brother. Hi, I found these postcards that say we're brothers. My name's Xander and we have the same father. When the jeep stopped in front of a very nice looking condo, Xander still didn't know what to say.

Vin walked the kid up to the front door and knocked a few times. When there was no answer, the man rolled his eyes and pulled out his key, unlocking the door and deadbolt. "He's probably still sleeping," Vin confessed as he ushered Xander inside, "He just got off a tough undercover assignment and was pretty tired."

While Vin disappeared down the hall, presumably to wake- up Ezra, Xander looked around the rather posh living room. Dark greens and burgundy rugs and curtains gave the room a rather regal air, while the elegant-looking couch probably cost more than his parents made in a year. Tons of leather-bound books sat neatly on rows of shelves, which also held various dvds and cds. The flat screen TV in the corner also gave the appearance of wealth. Xander began to feel a little uncomfortable standing amidst this luxury.

Meanwhile, Vin had eased into the master bedroom and sidled up to the king- sized bed. God, Ezra looked good all tousled and messy from sleep. Vin shook away his thoughts and leaned down to kiss his lover's eyelids then mouth. A slight quirk of those lips told Vin that Ezra was waking up. "Hey, babe," Vin whispered, "I'm not your only visitor this morning, so ya might want to wake up a bit more."

Ezra blinked open hazy eyes and stretched his arms above his head. He was confused, he was sure that Vin had left for work earlier this morning, so what was he doing back here now? And what was that about another guest? "Who's with you," Ezra asked Vin, "and why are they here so ungodly early?"

Vin smiled, amused eyes flicking to the alarm clock. Anything before nine o'clock was too early for Ezra. "Hey, it's almost nine," he teased, "just about time for you to get up for work, if ya had to go that is."

"Precisely," Ezra replied, finally looking awake and aware, "but I don't so why is there someone here to see me? It can't be one of our coworkers because they all know I have the day off."

"No," Vin said becoming serious, "it's a kid, looks about twelve, goes by the name Xander Harris. Ring any bells?"

"Not in the least," Ezra puzzled, "I do not recall anyone with the surname Harris, and certainly not anyone with a child."

"Are you sure," Vin pressed, "and no pretty girls about twelve, thirteen, years ago? Because I'm telling ya Ez, he looks the slightest bit like you."  
  
Ezra shook his head in denial; there had been nobody in his life at that time, not even one-night-stands. Vin was looking a little concerned, so Ezra hurried and found his robe and motioned toward the living room, "Well, let's go out and get this straightened out shall we?"


	2. Confrontation

_Disclaimer: I don't own Buffy: the vampire slayer or The Magnificent 7. I also don't own the ATF au of The Magnificent 7 that was first created by Mog (I think). I'm just playing, no money, and no harm. In the Buffy-verse this takes place before the first season and, in case you don't know about it, the ATF-verse of the Mag. 7 has the characters as a modern day team of ATF agents. Also, some mention of slash as two of the male characters are in a committed relationship._

_A/N: Chapter two is in thanks to my reviewers: DTHunter, naiya-isis, j, Amanda, K. Mckenzie, LoMaRiBa, Meanthis, slbwhitewolf, Leah T, ryuze, Anon._

Ezra was not entirely pleased that his much-deserved day off was beginning to get rather complicated. The boy standing uneasily in his living room promised to create more chaos then Ezra was prepared to deal with before noon. He decided to make a quick swerve into the kitchen for some coffee before interrogating the child. "Vin, love, do you want some coffee," he asked, up to the cabinets, "and does our guest want any refreshment?"

Vin rolled his eyes at his lover's avoidance tactics and responded, "Coffee'd be great Ez." Then he turned to Xander; "You want something?"

Xander had watched the two men walk down the hall, brushing up against each other fairly often. He noticed that Ezra had similar hair color and maybe the same build as himself, but then Ezra was past him and into the kitchen. Wasn't he curious about Xander? Didn't Ezra want to demand that Xander explain why he was there? Vin's question pulled him from his circling thoughts and he half-heartedly asked for some water. Ezra finally walked into the living room carrying two cups of coffee and a bottle of water that he had tucked under his arm. Handing out the beverages, he sat down next to Vin on the couch while Xander hesitantly perched on the loveseat.

Ezra always felt that disturbing news was better told quickly and painlessly as possible, so he broke the uncomfortable silence first. "Vin tells me that you have some news that you wish to impart?" Xander slowly nodded. Now was the moment he had dreaded. How was he supposed to go about this? What was he going to say? All his rehearsed lines had deserted him. Why had he thought this was going to be a good idea? Ezra obviously knew nothing about him. And his older half-brother seemed settled and well, rich. He even had a nice boyfriend. Who was Xander to intrude upon this nice, cozy life?

While Xander stayed quiet, trying to gather his thoughts, Ezra continued the conversation, hoping to prompt a response, "If you are here to investigate a paternity suit, I can assure you that thirteen years ago I was seventeen. While certainly capable of fathering a child at that age, I assure you that I did not."

Xander blinked at that, never thinking that Ezra would jump to that conclusion. He set down his water and began digging in his sack. "Not father," he said as he pulled the rubber-banded postcards from the bag, "brother, unless there's another Ezra Standish working in Denver for the ATF whose mother's name is Maude." Then he handed the postcards to the stunned ATF agent and fell silent.

Ezra flipped through the postcards noticing that the dates and events matched his life. He knew the handwriting was his mother's and it seemed the postcards started out every week, then every few, then once a month, until they were sent about one a year. It seemed that the boy really was his brother, or rather half-brother. He absently handed the postcards to Vin and stared at the child. Looking closely, he could see a vague resemblance in hair and eyes and body structure. Which was fascinating, but didn't stop him wondering why he was here. How did Xander get here? Where were his parents? And why come see Ezra now? "Are your parents with you?" Ezra asked, "Surely they didn't allow you to travel all this way by yourself."

Now, how was Xander supposed to answer that? No sir, my parent aren't with me, they died in a car accident last night and I hopped a bus thinking you might take me in so I wouldn't have to go live with my Uncle Rory. Somehow, he didn't think Ezra would appreciate the news all at once; it was better to take it slow and give out details one at a time. "I came by myself. I used my parents' money."

Both Vin and Ezra were pretty adept at reading between the lines, but it was Vin that caught on to Xander first. "You ran away," Vin stated. Ezra and Xander looked at Vin in startlement, and then eyed each other. Ezra noted the rather mismatched clothes, as if they were hurriedly thrown on, the stuffed full bag, and most of all the words parents' money that Xander used, carefully not saying that his parents gave him money or permission. Ezra nodded slightly to Vin agreeing with his assessment; the kid had definitely run away from home.

Xander shifted uneasily, but nodded in answer to Vin's question. Then he looked over at Ezra, "When I found out about you, I just had to meet you. And it's summer, so no school or anything to stop me." He ducked his head and toyed with the frayed edge of his t-shirt. He wondered how much to tell them. Maybe they'd let him stay if he said his parents' hit him; after all it had been true, even though they couldn't abuse him anymore.

However, no words were necessary, because when Xander ducked his head Vin and Ezra both saw the fading bruise on the back of his neck and reached the same conclusion. "Does your father hit you," Vin softly asked; knowing that Ezra would like the answer to be no, though it was obviously true. Xander raised his head and looked at them in puzzlement. He nodded, focused on his brother to see his reaction.

"How long," Ezra broke off trying to get a hold of his emotions, "How long has he been hitting you?"

Xander's eyes got distant in remembering. How long had it been going on? Searching through his earliest memories, he had to conclude that there wasn't a time when the abuse hadn't been there. "As long as I can remember," he replied, "I never seemed good enough for him. I never made him happy." He sighed, that was certainly true; nothing he did satisfied his father. He looked at Ezra's shuttered face and almost wished he could have given him a better picture of their father. It must be sad to think of the father you never knew as such a terrible person, but he had no real happy memories to tell him. He yawned, suddenly tired as the nervous adrenaline started to wear off. Sheer determination had kept him going this long, but now he was crashing. All he wanted was to stretch out on this lovely, undoubtedly comfortable, loveseat and go to sleep.

Ezra was still coming to terms with the fact that his father was an abusive person, when he noticed that the boy, no, his brother -- he should try to get used to that, was fighting a losing battle against sleep. The poor child had probably been up all night traveling to get to Denver, which had alarmed him but now seemed almost normal after learning he was running away from an abusive household. At the very least, Xander could sleep here today. He and Vin would have to discuss further arrangements, but he already didn't want to send him back home. He rose and walked over to the couch, "I don't know what we're going to do about all this," he said to Xander, "but for now, you look exhausted, and I am not at my best either. I suggest we both get some sleep and later this afternoon we can discuss our options. I'll show you to the guest room, where you can get some sleep on a proper bed." With that he rose and led Xander down the hallway. The first door on the left was the guestroom and he made sure to point out the bathroom across the hall. "Feel free to call for me if you find yourself in need of anything."


	3. Confessions

_Disclaimer: Not mine, never were. Slash E/V, if you don't like don't read._

_A.N. Huge apologies to everyone for the loooooong delay in updating and the short chapter. Real life has been mega stressful lately and I've barely had time to do things like eat and sleep, let alone write. But, I thought you guys would want a little something to let you know I'm not giving up on this story, rather than more silence while I worked on a longer chapter. So here you go._

Xander nodded in agreement and whispered, "thanks". He watched Ezra and Vin walk further down the hall and open a door on the right-hand side of the hallway. After they went inside, Xander shut his door and looked around the room. It was nice, done in light blues and pale creams. The bed was just a small twin, but it looked real comfortable, and Xander pulled down the sky blue covers, toed off his shoes, and snuggled into the pillows. He was asleep almost before his eyes shut.

Down the hall Vin was talking to Chris, "Yep, that's what I said, brother. Wanted to let you know I was gonna take the rest of the day off and help Ezra get this sorted out. Uh huh, I'll tell him. Thanks, Chris". Vin snapped close his cell phone and turned to see Ezra staring off into space. Vin knew his lover was thinking hard about everything Xander had told him. "Hey," Vin whispered, "What's going on in that big brain of yours?"

Ezra turned troubled green eyes on his lover; "I was considering how much our lives would change if a teenager moved in. I can not in good conscience send him back to an abusive household. And if I am his only option, which showing up here with a bag of necessities would seem to suggest, then he would have to stay here, with us. How would you feel about that, my love?"

For a moment, all Vin could do was stare at the wonderful, generous man he had fallen in love with; then he replied, "Of course, he can stay with us. We'd have to make a few changes, but we could do it." He smiled at Ezra's relieved expression, then leaned in and gave him a kiss. "You are a wonderful human being, Ezra P. Standish," he said, "and I love you dearly."

"And I you," Ezra reverently whispered. And then, for a while, no more words were spoken.

It was nearly two o'clock by the time all occupants of the condo finally woke up. Xander was pulled from sleep by two male voices raised in argument about something. Reluctantly leaving the very comfortable bed, he grabbed some clean clothes from his bag and went to take a shower. He should, at least, look presentable when Vin and Ezra decided his fate. He had to admit that he was worried. He didn't want to tell them the whole story, but he might have to if they decided that he had to go back home; or worse, if they called family services. What if they tried to get a hold of his parents? Really, one phone call was all they'd need to find out that he was lying to them, that his parents were dead. By the end of his shower, he'd half made up his mind to tell them everything. Squaring his shoulders, he headed for the kitchen.

Ezra was flipping pancakes at the stove, the lovers having tabled their discussion about jobs, safety, and schools when they heard the shower click on, and Vin was reading the newspaper when Xander walked into the room. Vin looked up with a smile, "hope you like pancakes, they were about the only thing we had the ingredients to make. Ez was supposed to go to the store today."

Xander nodded, "Sure, I like pancakes just fine." He wandered over and sat down at the table, "Um, have you decided what you're going to do about me yet? I mean, I don't want to be any trouble." Silence greeted his question as Vin and Ezra glanced at each other, communicating over his head. He sighed and stared at the table. Maybe he could get Willow to hide him. And Jessie's mom always seemed to like him. Suddenly, a plate of pancake was slid underneath his nose. He looked up at his brother's serious face and tried not to show how nervous he was.

"Vin and I have decided to let you stay here, with us," Ezra said, "I wouldn't send any child back to an abusive home, especially not my brother. We will, however, need to contact your parents and a lawyer to gain custody of you."

Well, there it was, Xander thought. Now he had to tell them the truth. But what it they didn't want him enough? What if they decided that they didn't want a screwed up kid who had lied to them? He felt the tears well up in his eyes and tried to blink them away. "You can't," he choked out, "you can't contact them."

Vin had watched the kid closely and when the tears had threatened, he'd known that this was going to get bad. He gently touched Ezra's arm to stop him from saying anything too abruptly and softly asked, "Why not Xander?"

"They, They're dead," Xander burst out, visibly shaking. He glanced up, and haltingly continued, "They... they were in a c...car accident yesterday. I...I was going to t...tell you but I thought it'd b...be too much all at once. I...I didn't mean to l...lie to you. I...I was going to tell you today I swear." His shoulders slumped at their shocked faces, "I'll l...leave if you want me to." He didn't even feel his tears anymore.

Vin looked over at Ezra who seemed to be fighting some great emotional upheaval. He felt the same way, now they really had no other choice. They had decided to keep the boy for his safety, but now they would also keep him because he had no place else to go. It didn't matter, Vin figured, the boy already seemed to belong with them. He reacted a lot like Vin thought Ezra would in that situation -- hedging his bets until he was sure of his place.

Ezra rose from his chair, then walked over to crouch in front of Xander. He gently raised the boy's chin, "Hey," he quietly said, "It's okay. I might have done the same thing in you position. It doesn't make a difference if your parents are dead or alive; well it may make the paperwork easier. The point being, that you can and will stay here. I'll call my lawyer tomorrow morning and get the proceedings started. Now, why don't you get started on those pancakes?"

Xander nodded with relief and reached for the butter as Ezra retreated to his own chair. Xander felt like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders for the first time in days. He was going to stay. His brother really wanted him. Maybe, just maybe, this would be the start of something really good.


End file.
